Miss Helmstedt remained silent, with her eyes cast down in bitter humiliation.
“Say, Margaret Helmstedt, my dear, will you do this?” earnestly pleaded Colonel Houston.
Margaret looked up. The faltering voice, and the tears on the old soldier’s cheeks touched her heart.
“The bravest are ever the gentlest. God bless you, Colonel Houston. Yes, if ever poor Margaret Helmstedt needs a friend, she will call upon you,” she said, holding out her hand.
The old man pressed it and hurried away.
The next morning Colonel Houston set out for Washington city to meet his son.
The reunion took place at the City Hotel.
Captain Houston was eager to proceed directly homeward; but a night’s rest was necessary to the invalid soldier, and their departure was fixed for the next day. Ralph Houston’s eagerness seemed not altogether one of joy; through the evening his manner was often abstracted and anxious.
When the party had at last separated for the night, Ralph left his own chamber and proceeded to that of his father. He found the veteran in bed, and much surprised at the unseasonable visit. Ralph threw himself into the easy-chair by his side, and opened the conversation by saying:
“I did not wish to speak before a third person, even when that person was my brother; but what then is this about Margaret? Mrs. Houston’s letters drop strange, incomprehensible hints, and Margaret’s little notes are constrained and sorrowful. Now, sir, what is the meaning of it all?”